


Shall We Dance?

by mosylu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, F/M, Unrepentant Fluff, dance lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: Jyn has to learn to dance for undercover purposes. She’s about as happy with that as you think she is.





	Shall We Dance?

Jyn considered herself well prepared for anything that the Rebellion could require of her. She could pick pockets, rifle through desks, shoot a blaster, bash a ‘trooper’s head in with a truncheon, run for safety, cover her partners’ backs, and man the guns as Bodhi got them away.

However, this was a new one.

“I don’t dance,” she said flatly.

“You’ll have to,” Cassian told her. “This is a fancy party, there will be dancing.”

“Why can’t I hang around the edge of the floor eating darveen patties?” That she could handle.

“Because on the dance floor, we’ll be able to monitor the room much more successfully. And if our mark asks you to dance, you’ll be that much more able to pick his pocket.”

“Why don’t you dance with him?”

“Because he’s not interested in men.”

“Have you seen you? I bet you could make him interested.”

“Stop trying to get out of it,” he said, lips twitching. “Accept your fate, Jyn Erso. You’re learning to dance for this mission.”

She made a face.

“Your face will freeze that way if you’re not careful,” he said, lips twitching harder.

“It’s Hoth, everything freezes,” she growled. “Fine. When are we doing this thing?”

“Come to practice room C tonight after dinner. And you’ll have to wear the shoes.” He shut the door on her squawk of indignation.

* * *

When he saw what she turned up wearing, the smirk turned into an outright laugh. She’d followed the letter of his request and no more. She wore the thin-soled, strappy, sparkly high heels that intelligence wardrobe had supplied, but with them, she had on her usual uniform - sturdy pants, boxy shirt, heavy belt. She looked like a very fancy cargo loader.

She gave Cassian the evil eye, just on principle, and then looked around. “What are they doing here?” she asked, pointing at the rest of Rogue One.

“We’re running the music,” Bodhi said innocently.

Chirrut was more honest. “We wanted to watch the show.” Baze grunted his agreement.

“I predict a ninety-four percent chance that you’ll maim Cassian,” K-2 announced, not sounding overly bothered by the prospect.

“I hate you all,” she said.

“Yes, I know,” Cassian grinned. “Come here.”

After ten minutes, he wasn’t grinning. “Ouch!” He dropped her hands and limped away from her, favoring the foot she’d just nearly put one of the heels through.

“I told you,” K-2 and Jyn said at the same time.

He looked like he didn’t know which one of them to glare at first. He let out his breath in a whoosh and pushed his fingers through his hair.

She looked a little shamefaced. “All these patterns,” she said. “Put your foot there, move your arm like this. It’s too much, I can’t keep it straight. Look, I’m just not good at pretending.”

“It’s intelligence work. The whole point is to be what we’re not,” he said.

“The whole point is to get the job done,” she said. “I can wear a dress and heels. I can put my hair up all fancy. I can even slap on lipstick. But none of that is going to make me dainty, or delicate, or graceful.”

Baze grunted, “You’re graceful when you fight.”

The big man so rarely said anything that everyone turned to stare at him, except for Chiirrut, who grinned to himself.

After a moment, Cassian said, “He has a point.” He turned back to Jyn, looking re-energized. “Look. Think of this as a fight.”

Her eyes lit. “I get to punch you?”

“No,” he said.

“You ruin all my fun.”

“But you do have to be in my space.” He walked right up to her so their bodies were six inches apart. She jolted in surprise, but held her ground. “Watching my body. Anticipating my movements from the way my shoulder drops, from the shift of my hip, from the movements of my eyes. You can do that. I’ve seen you.”

She looked wary.

“The only difference is, you’re mirroring what I do. Also, you’re not going to try to maim me at any point,” he added, because she was so annoyed right now that he really wouldn’t put it past her to try and slip through that loophole.

She tilted her head, clearly thinking it over, then lifted her arms. "Okay. Fine. I’ll try it that way.”

He nudged her bicep until she dropped them again. “Forget about the arms for now. Never mind that. Just follow my lead,” he murmured.

He stepped into her, and she automatically moved back. His lips curved. He stepped back, and catching on, she moved forward. They did one wide circuit of the room just like that, their bodies responding to each others’ slightest shifts and changes.

“Good,” he said. “Good, then. Arms now.” He touched her waist, lightly, then settled his hand in the small of her back and took her hand in the other. Her other arm settled along his, and her hand curved over his shoulder. “Bodhi? Music please?”

Bodhi hit the button of the music player, and a woman’s low voice crooned out of the speakers.

They began to move again.  Nominally Cassian led, but Rogue One knew them well enough to see that the lead shifted back and forth between them, fluid as plasma. They seemed to have forgotten anyone else was there, eyes fixed on each other.

They wouldn’t win any dance competitions, but at the same time, there was a smoothness in Jyn’s movements, a grace that had been missing from her stiff, awkward earlier attempts. It wasn’t quite the furious, brawling grace of her fighting style, either. It was something more fluid, more sensual, more … intimate.

Bodhi squirmed and said, “Anyone feeling like we shouldn’t be here?”

Baze raised his hand.

“Fifty percent, good enough for me,” Bodhi said. He grabbed K-2’s arm, the way Baze was grabbing Chirrut’s, and hustled the droid toward the door.

Chirrut protested, “They don’t seem to mind!”

“Voyeur,” Baze muttered.

So did K-2, of course. “I fail to understand - ”

“I know you don’t, I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

“I beg your pardon. I was manufactured thirty standard years ago - ”

“Leave now, argue later.” Bodhi slapped the door-close button, wondering if the couple they left behind even noticed.

They didn’t, really.

“See?” Cassian murmured some minutes later, after the music had run out. “You can dance.”

She bumped up one shoulder. “It’s not so bad, I guess.” Their arms had settled around each other, soft and close, their bodies swaying in tandem. “But I hope I’m not supposed to dance with the mark like this.”

With a straight face, he said, “Well, if it gets the job done - ”

She stepped on his foot - on purpose. He laughed and ducked his head to kiss her firmly on the mouth. She kissed him back until they both had to stop for air.

He rested his forehead against hers. They’d stopped moving and stood holding each other in the middle of the floor. “I don’t need you to be dainty or delicate, you know,” he told her.

Her eyes searched his face. “Not even for your precious mission?”

“Not even for the Rebellion,” he said. “I only ever need you to be yourself.” He kissed her again. “Strong and tough and beautiful, and graceful in your own particular way.”

She kissed him back. “Well, good, because I’ve got that covered.”

FINIS


End file.
